


How to Train Your Cardassian

by mythtress



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:17:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythtress/pseuds/mythtress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Garak is mysteriously infected with an augmented version of Barclay's Protomorphosis Syndrome it's up to Bashir to keep the Proto-Cardassian under control until a cure can be synthesized. Easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bashir's morning had been uneventful. He was perfectly fine with that. It was fine to have a shift every now and then that didn't hold life and death in the balance. Currently he sat at the replimat, sipping some tarkelean tea, looking over several medical journals. He had been waiting for his lunch companion who was uncharacteristically late. The Chief medical officer decided that he would wait exactly 60 seconds longer before going and searching for his friend. It wasn't like Garak to be late and it always caused Bashir to worry when it did occur. Usually he'd check the shop and the tailor spy would be engrossed in a commission (or other aspect of his work) and Bashir would feel silly for worrying in the first place. Garak could take care of himself, but still that little knot of dread tightened in the pit of Bashir's stomach as each second ticked by. He wondered when they had gone from acquaintances to friends. It had happened subtly, over a long time. There was no single incident he could point to. Though seeing Garak die had certainly triggered something in him. What that something was, he hadn't quite figured out yet and maybe he never would.

A commotion interrupted traffic on the promenade. Voices a little louder than the low continual buzzing hum of inhabitants. Bashir looks to see what's going on and continues ticking off the last 30 seconds. When Garak does arrive Bashir notices it immediately, the signs of agitation. Those signs are masked as Garak puts his smile firmly in place. Still the doctor has to ask.

"Are you alright?"

"Just had a run in with a most unpleasant individual." He admits, adjusting his tunic. 

"Should I expect you in the infirmary later?" It's meant a joke but Bashir does worry about the Cardassian. His mouth has gotten him a bed in the infirmary on several occasions.

The Cardassian laughs, rubbing at the back of his hand. "No, no dear doctor. Nothing more sinister than someone being rude. I'm quite used to it. I am dreadfully sorry for being late. What are you having for lunch today?" 

The conversation is closed on that topic. If Bashir had tried to steer it back a deflection will be forthcoming so he accepts the story. It's just another part of his friendship with the man, a part he accepts with more ease each time it happens. They start lunch with a discussion of cultural cuisine which allows Garak to tell a few stories of the places he's been. It's an easy sort of conversation and Bashir is fine with that today. In fact it's such a simple topic that the doctor's attention wanders and he notices the Cardassian scratch several times during lunch. Do Cardassian's get dry skin? Do their scales dry out? There's so much he still doesn't know about the species and it bothers him. Answers won't come from Garak, he knows that from experience. Bashir's lunch is over right in the middle of the tailor describing some of the foods he was able to sample during his time on Romulus. Garak apologizes for being late once more before they part company.

The second part of Bashir's shift is even less eventful than the first. Not even one patient in the infirmary. He gets plenty of work done during the lull and is chipper when he leaves to meet the Chief for darts at Quark's. He sees the light still on in Garak's shop, and decides to say hello before going to the bar, maybe invite the man along for a drink. Miles would not approve but it would be good to get the Cardassian to socialize. When Bashir walks through the doors of the shop, Garak doesn't even look up. He's fidgeting, scratching viciously at areas under his tunic, not even trying to hide it. Which sets off some red flags for the doctor. 

"Garak?" The man's head whips around so fast Bashir is afraid he'd dislocated something. Garak's eyes are wide, pupils dilated, blue irises almost non existent. Breathing is rapid and shallow. Bashir has to stop himself from taking a step back. "Garak, are you alright?" The Cardassian scans him head to heel and back again, trying to take in a deep, unsteady breath. His nostrils flare on the exhale. "Fine, Doctor. Is there a reason for your sudden appearance?" Bashir doesn't hide his annoyance at the man's accusatory tone. "I stopped by to say hello and ask if you'd care to join the Chief and I for a drink. You don't look in any condition to go anywhere though." The Cardassian racks his nails at his collar, looking particularly uncomfortable. "Astute of you Doctor. Enjoy your game of darts. Excuse me, I have work to finish here." He turns away from him, tapping furiously at the console on his desk. Bashir isn't going to be detoured that easily. "Garak, I only want to help. Is there anything I can do for you? As a medical professional? As a friend?" His shoulders suddenly slump as a sigh escapes him. He shakes his head. "No, Doctor there is not. I'll be fine tomorrow, please...just go." His voice is weary, laced with exhaustion. 

"I'm going to check on you first thing tomorrow morning." Garak gives a small nod in acceptance but says nothing else. Bashir leaves, the concern for his friend weighing down his mood. 

He lets Miles win by 3 points and the man has a good time gloating. Bashir is fine with that. Happy to have a good nature ribbing than to send a sulking chief of engineering home to Keiko. They depart Quark's in high spirits bidding each other a good night. Bashir opts to take a stroll around the promenade as he isn't ready to turn in yet. He glances into Garak's shop as it comes into view. The low Cardassian standard lighting is still on. He takes a step towards the doors but decides against it. Garak said he would be fine tomorrow. 

***

Odo's gruff voice pulls Bashir from his sleep. 

"Odo to Doctor Bashir."

"Yes, constable?" He sits up, rubbing at his eyes. It must be early morning, 0430 or so. 

"There's an issue with Garak, come to the shop immediately."

His mind is alight with every awful scenario possible as he acknowledges Odo's request and throws on his uniform, dashing to the Promenade.

Of all the things Bashir's mind thought of, none of them come close to what greets him as he enters the shop. Odo and a slew of security officers armed with phasers have taken positions in front of the doors and down the steps, fanning out the sides of the shop. They allow Bashir to pass when they recognize him. He comes to stand next to Odo but his eyes are locked on the figure currently on top of Garak's work bench. A creature 1.5 meters tall, 2.5 meters long, with a meter long tail. At least 360 kilos (800lbs) judging by how the table is bowed. An elongated face, resembling a terran crocodile, still sporting the Cardassian facial ridges. Neck scales much larger, like armored plates, cascade down the beast's shoulders. Thick limbs sporting blunt heavy looking claws. It's hide is grey with undertones of red and a plume of dark feathers adorn it's head. His head. Bashir realizes that this must be Garak. 

"Odo, what happened?" He doesn't take his eyes off the beast. The feathers are vertical as he lets out a loud hiss in warning at the security officers. 

"There was a commotion reported in the shop. We responded and found him like this." He gestures to the creature. "I called for reinforcements to keep him in here. Stunning doesn't seem to be working on him. Do you think he'll calm down for you, Doctor? I can't let him onto the station in the state he's in, no telling the damage he could do." Odo did not mention that putting the Cardassian down was the next alternative if Bashir failed. Garak's tail thrashes violently, knocking over one of the last standing racks of clothing. It startled him more than anyone else as he lets out a short roar before resuming his near deafening hiss. 

"Have your officers pull back to the door. They're only agitating him. I'll try to talk to him."

"If there's any part of him left to talk to. I'll get you out of there if he moves to harm you."

"Thank you, Constable." He moves forward, speaking in a soothing tone. "Garak, it's me." He stops at the edge of what he calculates the Cardassian's tail swing radius to be. His teeth are barred, lips drawn in a snarl, back arching. "Garak." He reaches out a hand. "That's ill advised doctor." Odo moves takes a step forward but a warning growl from the Cardassian causes him to stop. The beast that was once Garak turns it's eyes on him. Sharp and clear but fear is evident there too. "Garak whatever has happened, we'll fix it. I'll find a way, I promise you. In order to do that, I need you to trust me, Garak." He inches closer as he speaks, arm outstretched. Close enough for the Cardassian to easily snap half his limb off if he desired. It's a risk Bashir is willing to take for his friend. The crest of feather's fall from the alert vertical stance. It's a good sign. Much of Garak's aggressive posture is lost as he leans his massive head into the offered hand. Bashir feels the rush of warm air as Garak sniffs at his fingers, palm, and cuff. He pulls away slightly, reptilian lips curling in what could only be a sneer after nipping gently at the fabric. Bashir smiles, feeling a wash of relief. It's still Garak inside of there. 

"Elim." Bashir flinches as the Cardassian leans back in, close to his face, sniffing his hair, head, and neck. Pulling away he makes what sounds like a _happy_ rumble and presses his nose to the doctors. Hesitantly the human brings a hand up and strokes over the now flat feathers. Garak pulls away after a moment, his head tilting to the side curiously. 

"Lets get you someplace warm." Bashir says gesturing to the floor. Garak hesitates a moment before lumbering off of the work bench, which would have to be replaced. 

It's an awkward procession from the shop to the infirmary. Any security officer who gets to close receives a snarl. Odo's close presence seems to be tolerated. Bashir figures that's due to the Constable having no natural scent. He uses a hand on Garak's shoulder to guide him to the infirmary doors. From that contact he can feel the movement of the heavy muscles and each time the Cardassian would shudder against the cold of the station. Garak halts in front of the infirmary, making a low whine, and looks at the doctor. 

"I know you don't like the infirmary, Garak, but I really need to run some tests. You'll have a whole exam room to yourself. We'll make it nice, warm and dark. You'll feel at ease there." Garak glances from the doctor to the doors and back again before allowing himself to be led in. Odo dismisses his officers, opting to have only himself around in case Garak decides to go feral. The possibility of which is still present but diminished.

Nurse Jabara's eyes bulge as the doctor maneuvers his friend past her desk towards one of the examine rooms. Garak eyes her as they pass but makes no aggressive action, which Bashir is very happy about. She regains her wits in time to voice a protest. "Doctor, large animals are not meant for the infirmary. Especially ones of unknown origin."

"He's not an unknown species, Jabara. It's...well it's Garak." He exchanges a glance with the Cardassian. She scoffs, "What? That's not possible." He shrugs, not really having a good answer for her. "I'll know more particulars about the situation after getting him in the exam room and running some scans. Would you please make sure we aren't disturbed, and let Chief O'brien know I'll need to speak with him as soon as he's available." The Bajoran nods after taking another look at the Cardassian, who is sniffing quizzically at the door to Exam room 2. 

Once inside Bashir orders the lights to 40% standard and Garak gives an appreciative deep chested rumble. "I thought you might like that." He takes out the medical tricorder and begins to wave the scanner over Garak's head. "What do you think caused this, Doctor?" Odo has taken a rigid post near the door. "I'm not exactly sure. Hey, hold still." Garak continues to move his head, trying to follow the scanner as it's passed over him. "I do recall an interesting incident that was reported by the USS Enterprise that shares some similarities with what we've seen in Garak, here. Though as I recall it was ship wide virus and affected the crew much more slowly."

"Do you think the station might be infected?" Julian shakes his head, at the same time recalling the paper that had been authored by Dr. Crusher, and mentally comparing the new scans of Garak with his previous physical.

"I just saw Garak last night, no later than 2200 hours, and he was still humanoid then. Whatever _this_ is, it's much faster acting and I'm sure if the entire station was infected I'd have a lot more patients in the infirmary." Odo nods in acceptance of the conclusion. "How many times die you try to stun Garak when you first found him Constable?"

"The security team who reported to the incident tried to stun him at least six times. It didn't appear to have any affect however."

"There's some minor cell damage it looks like. I'd guess the high levels of stress and adrenaline are what kept him upright along with his new muscle mass. Proto-Cardassians must have been spectacularly durable."

"Proto-Cardassian?" 

"Yes, the complex life form the Cardassians evolved from into the people we know them as now. From these scans it appears Garak has de-evolved into the prehistoric ancestor of his people. Extraordinary."

"How is that even possible?" Odo isn't as pleased with the situation as Bashir seems to be. He doesn't need a prehistoric predator roaming the promenade devouring inhabitants. 

The doctor moves around the Cardassian, scanning as he speaks. "The activation of dormant T-cells, called introns. These cells contain DNA coding for aspects of a species that have gone dormant. Such as a tail on humans. If the intron for growing a tail is activated the body will respond by growing the appendage. It appears in Garak's case nearly all of his introns were activated at once." Bashir stands up and pats the Cardassian on the back, before moving over to the console to call up the medical record. "Something similar happened on the Enterprise." He chuckles, "When I was at the academy there was a saying. If it hasn't happened to the Enterprise, then it probably hasn't happened. Ah, here it is. Barclay's Protomorphosis Syndrome, hmm..." 

"Is there a cure, doctor? Some way to deactivate those particular introns?"

"Oh...oh yes. Says here it was stopped and then reversed by the creation of a retro virus... _huh_..."

"Huh, what?" The constable doesn't like the lack of confidence in the words inflection.

"The retro virus was created from embryonic cells. I'll need Cardassian cells in order to synthesize the cure. Of course that is assuming that this is a form of Barclay's syndrome."

"Is there any way to know for sure?" 

"Not without lots of extensive scans and testing. I'd have to send a requisition to Central Command and ask them to send the cells. Which, with the Cardassian penchant for keeping their physiological information secret..." He grimaces as he looks to Garak who has sat down next to him. "Without a mountain of evidence I'm not sure Central command will acquiesce to the request."

"Which means you wouldn't be able to cure him." Odo states plainly. 

"That's the worst case scenario. Let me get the tests run and try to figure this out. I know I can reverse it. I have to."

"I'll inform Sisko of what has happened and I'll call up a security detail to guard the door."

"That's not necessary Odo, I'm perfectly safe with Garak."

Odo gave his characteristic harrumph, "I believe Garak would say that is very naive of you, doctor." Bashir smiles, "Yes, he certainly would. If you really want to post a detail, only have one person and they're to stay outside unless called for. Stressing him will not make any of this easier." Odo nods in agreement, "Good luck, doctor."

"Thanks." He calls after the departing changeling as he smiles down at his friend. Garak's massive jaws open, showing off serrated teeth in what could be construed as a smile. Bashir is certain he'll need all the luck he can get.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bashir begins to learn more about proto-cardassian behavior

For the most part Garak was accommodating during the multitude of tests Bashir had to conduct. More so than the Cardassian had ever been during any other examine. Perhaps it was due to the increased temperature. Bashir made sure to mention this to him. The doctor spoke continuously as he scanned, hypoed, weighed, and examined every last inch of his patient. It was his natural instinct to explain what each poke, prod, and test was for. The fact that his patient happened to be a 847 pound proto-cardassian (it seemed Garak was a little thick even in this form) that may or may not be able to understand him was not enough to curb his incessant chatter. He was currently comparing slides of syndrome cells to Garak's own, listing off all the similarities. 

"Well, this is strange." Garak had curled himself around the doctor's chair. Though he appeared asleep, he tilted his head positioning his ear canal in order to better receive auditory input. Bashir noticed the head movement and made note of the behavior on his personal padd. Lack of acute hearing appeared to be a trait Cardassian's had dealt with for a long time. 

"On the surface it appears to be the same virus. However upon closer inspection the peptide sequence has been altered and from what I've seen it's not a natural mutation." Garak raised his head, eyes fixed on the doctor has he continued his explanation. "The virus has been ramped up, causing it to be extremely fast acting and making it able to activate multiple introns at once rather than one at a time. Luckily I haven't seen any indication of it being infectious...yet." Bashir ran a hand over the silky feathers. "I wish you could tell me who ran into you yesterday. I'd bet anything that's who infected you with this." 

Garak gave an affirmative snort and tossed his head free of the doctor's hand before rolling over playfully onto his side. Bashir chuckled softly as he scratched the underside of the Cardassian's massive jaw muscle. Garak had never allowed chin tickling during any of his other physicals. This would be something he'd tease the man with over lunch once he was back to his humanoid incarnation. 

The Cardassian's gentle demeanor vanished as the door opened. Garak was on his feet in a flash, moving faster than anything his size had a right to. Feathers crested in alarm, tail going rigid and poised to strike whatever threat presented itself. That threat happened to be Sisko, who strode easily into the exam room with an air of authority. The posture didn't sit well with Garak who let out a low growl. The Bajoran security guard moved in front of the captain, phaser drawn. Garak's growl turned to a hiss as his back arched. Bashir bolted from the chair, "No!" he positioned himself between them. "Go back outside." He ordered. The officer looked to the captain, who gave a nod, before holstering his weapon. "Garak, it's alright." Bashir soothed as the most immediate threat left the room. The Cardassian's hissing died away as his eyes narrowed flicking between the two humans.

"Doctor?" Sisko asked in a softer tone than usual.

"Sorry, Sir." Bashir offered over his shoulder, not wanting to turn away from Garak in his current state of agitation. "It's just Captain Sisko. Garak, calm down." The Cardassian's stiff posture eased slightly, though his feathered crest remained vertical, alert. Bashir tried to reach out but Garak pulled his head back, eyes wide, teeth visible. "Alright, that's fine." He backed away, not turning completely away from the Cardassian. Garak's head lowered as Bashir withdrew to speak with the captain. 

"Sorry about that, Sir."

"I should be the one to apologize, doctor. I didn't mean to set Mr. Garak off."

"I'm sure Garak will be more comfortable with you once he's learned your scent."

"My scent?"

"Yes, sir. Cardassian olfactory senses are quite keen. He'll identify you as a non threat." Hopefully is the word Bashir was going to conclude with but he kept it to himself. Having everyone on the station being even more afraid of Garak than usual wasn't going to help the current state of things. Garak had begun to circle them, moving to the far edge of the room, nostrils in the air. He stopped now and then to take in big whiffs of air, much of his bodies rigidity was lost as he circled the pair. 

"Have you found the cause of this sudden transformation?"

Bashir nodded, "I believe so, Sir. Though my initial analysis points to something even more concerning than the transformation."

Sisko cocked an eyebrow. "Which is?" It seemed hard to believe that anything could be more concerning than a humanoid suddenly becoming their prehistoric counter part. 

"That this virus has been artificially modified from it's original state." Sisko crossed his arms, taking a moment to reflect on the information. Garak nudged the doctor's hand, having accepted the captain's presence, he came to stand next to the human . 

"That is an alarming conclusion, Doctor. You're certain the virus didn't mutate naturally?" 

"All the evidence points to artificial tampering, Sir." Bashir patted the Cardassian's head, running his hand over the dark feathers. Sisko glanced at Garak before asking, "And the cure?"

Bashir sighed, "Will require Cardassian embryonic cells, which I don't keep stocked in the cupboards. However, I didn't want to requisition Central Command for the samples without concrete evidence."

"Good plan, doctor. When you have everything you believe will convince them, send it to me and I'll make a formal request through Starfleet command. That should get their attention at least."

"Thank you, Sir. Hopefully they'll at least look over the proposal before saying no." 

"Stay positive doctor. If this virus was artificially tampered with Central Command has the same reasons as we do to find a cure and get a handle on it.?"

"If he could Garak would thank you as well." As if he understood, Garak gave a nod. Sisko had a bemused smile. "I'm not completely sure about his cognitive functions yet. I'll be running some more tests to find out as much as possible."

"That's all well and good, doctor. But don't forget to feed and water him." Bashir's mouth fell open. He hadn't even considered Garak's physical needs in this new form. "I always wanted a dog growing up." Sisko continued, "My father wouldn't allow any animals in the restaurant though." 

"Garak is not a dog, Sir." 

"No he certainly isn't." Sisko laughed. "He'll probably be a lot more work than a dog." Garak eyed the man, his upper lip pulling back over his teeth in objection to the comparison. "Well I'll leave you to it, please keep me updated, doctor. Mr. Garak." 

"Sir." They nodded in unison as the captain departed before turning to face one another. "Well, Garak, shall we eat?" The Cardassian's tail thumped the floor as he gave a toothy grin.

Bashir called Jabara in and asked her to retrieve some form of sustenance for the Cardassian. She was far from pleased to play waitress and her frown deepened when he sheepishly asked for a scone and cup of tea for himself. Despite her displeasure at the task Jabara returned with food for the both of them. She placed the platter of Regova eggs in front of the Cardassian while Bashir offered his profound thanks and took the little plate presented to him. She sighed, crossing her arms and watching as the Cardassian nipped delicately at the delicacy. 

"You can't keep him in here, you know." Bashir tried to swallow past the large lump of scone half way down his gullet. He ended up coughing instead, reaching for his tea to ease the dryness of his throat. "He's a big animal. He'll need more room to roam around then an exam room can provide. Not to mention the fact that you can't stay in here with him forever, you have patients to see today." Bashir nodded past his cup, downing enough liquid to retrieve his voice. 

"What would you suggest?"

Jabara shrugged, "Contact the Constable about getting him some exercise. Have the computer monitor him while you're working. You can always check on him periodically during your shift." Bashir grimaced, he felt guilty leaving his friend alone after such a traumatic experience. He did still have a job to perform, but maybe it could wait a day.

"Can Doctor Elgan cover for me?"

The nurse sighed, "I'll ask her but I know for certain she can't cover tomorrow." 

He flashed her an appreciative smile, "I understand, it'll just be for today. Garak really shouldn't be alone." She rolled her eyes at the sentiment but let the matter rest and left. Bashir turned his attention to the Cardassian who was snapping up the little morsels, flicking his head to roll the food into his mouth before mushing it. The thought to record Garak's unique eating habits crossed his mind. Purely for the scientific value but also to show him once he was returned to his previous state. The look on his face would be a real treat. Garak polished off the last egg and moved to the bowl of pungent Rokassa juice. He positioned his long snout into the bowl and began to lap, most of the liquid spilling out the sides of his jaws. Bashir frowned, perhaps a trough would better suit the Cardassian. He glanced around the exam room, thinking of all the things that would be needed to make his friend more comfortable. A sleeping area, a food dispenser, and a more accessible watering device to start with. Garak lifted his head, droplets of juice staining the floor as he made his way over to the doctor. Bashir watched him as his head tilted up, nostrils flaring, eyes fixed on the scone still held by the human. 

"No Garak, this is my breakfast." He took a step forward, eyes wide. "You already ate yours, and you probably shouldn't have pastries anyway." Garak licked his lips, inching closer as the doctor continued to talk. "I should keep you on a strictly paleo diet, only proteins. I honestly don't know enough about regular Cardassian physiology to formulate a hypothesis about your prehistoric needs. I'll have to do some research into xenozoology and make a few educated guesses. You'll let me know if I'm wrong I'm sure." Bashir had leaned back during his discourse, trying to keep the scone out of reach of the Cardassian. Garak would have been fully capable of lunging forward and taking the food along with the doctor's hand. However, he instead pressed forward into the doctor, neck stretching, nostrils wriggling as he whiffed at the bread and butter. Bashir laughed, pushing the Cardassian back with his forearm which got him to take several steps back. "Oh, alright. I suppose a little piece won't hurt." He tossed the last bite into Garak's open mouth. The Cardassian's tail wagged happily as he snapped it up. "Now let's get back to work." Garak gave an affirmative nod with an accompanying rumble.


End file.
